


tension

by Vio14



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 00:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14842521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vio14/pseuds/Vio14
Summary: Her eyes turn harsh, the open blue freezing back into merciless ice. “You’re smart. But for Reiner, you become an idiot.”“Maybe,” Bertholdt says softly, and there’s nothing left to say.





	tension

**Author's Note:**

> continuing to try and make my contribution to end this drought...

Nights in Marley were entirely different from nights in Paradis. It was something that Bertholdt had quickly come to realize in the four years he’s lived on the island.

It wasn’t that the view of the sky was any different. The stars were still widespread and numerous, impossible to count. Reiner would say that it was different because people here splurged on temptation- prostitution, drinking, raunchy areas where people gathered. Devils loved to sin, after all. And Annie would say nothing; it was not the kind of thing that had enough importance to garner any kind of acknowledgement from her.

But being outside in the dark for once, away from his uncomfortable, stiff cot in the barracks with Reiner and the other members of the 104th, Bertholdt realizes what it was. Fear had always been tangible in the air in Liberio, in the way the light from the guard towers reflected off people in the night, their faces eerie and almost skeletal with the shadows of the chained fences dancing across their pale skin- there was nothing similar in Paradis.

Of course, the Colossal Titan was almost always a looming threat. But not something that kept people who had never been witness to it up at night. And on the occasional days that people did remember, walking stiffly, casting quick glances at the distant spectre of Wall Rose on the horizon- it was not a fear Bertholdt would ever be able to understand, like he had back home.

It was hard to be afraid of what you were.

Bertholdt is still looking up at the night sky when Reiner kicks him in the shin. The motion looks like a nudge, but the spot where the toe of Reiner’s boot hit briefly burns. Bertholdt debates if it’s a result of the strength corded through Reiner’s body that he still has yet to learn to rein in, or deliberate. From the look in the other boy’s eyes as he frowns up at Bertholdt, most likely the latter.

“You’re thinking too much,” Reiner tells him seriously.

Bertholdt isn’t in a good enough mood to keep himself from snapping. “It’s a thing people do, Reiner. Thinking.” _Something you don’t do enough_ , Bertholdt internally adds savagely, followed by a wave of annoyance and shame at himself for the thought. Annie’s mean enough to Reiner to cover for both of them.

Reiner’s shoulders are stiff for a moment, before they relax as he huffs out a laugh. “Sure,” he agrees easily. “But your head’s always in the clouds. And you’re tall enough for it to always be there, anyways.”

Bertholdt thinks of pulling out of the red nape of his titan, clothes and skin steaming, the ground so far below. Like looking down from the heavens. The memory is too easy to pull up in his mind’s eye, lingering since before Reiner opened his mouth. He’s quiet when he finally speaks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The laughter fades from Reiner’s voice quickly enough that Bertholdt knows it was never truly there to begin with. “Nothing, Bertl.” Reiner understands what he’s talking about. The sentiment is obvious in the harsh planes of his face.

“It was just a joke,” Reiner says. “You’re tall. That’s it.” And then he grins, the moment gone like it never happened. The grin is Marcel’s. It slides onto Reiner’s face more and more easily these days, and Bertholdt turns away from him, feeling sick.

“Anyway,” Reiner continues, oblivious. “It’s our first break, so you need to stop looking so damn serious. You don’t have to pull off the soldier look anymore. This is a festival, my friend, and so we should be having fun, talking to some chicks. How about it?” He winks and nudges Bertholdt’s shoulder in the direction of a group of girls, who are giggling to themselves, not so discreetly looking at Reiner and Bertholdt from the corners of their eyes.

_When have you ever been interested in girls_ , Bertholdt starts to think before stopping himself.

He keeps saying the wrong things, keeps fucking up with Reiner- the easy camaraderie of their friendship wavering, more and more since they’ve been on this island and especially since they joined the Training Corps. They’re always on unsteady waters, one bad word or look away from tipping the other into its depths. He barely recognizes the boy in front of him as the one from his childhood. Bertholdt wonders when things stopped being simple, but he knows when.

Despite the carefree look pasted on his face, Bertholdt can see the silent plea in Reiner’s hazel irises. _Just say yes_.

He’s never been able to say no to Reiner. Bertholdt sighs. “Okay,” he mutters.

Reiner looks relieved. “Good. Be smooth, just not- well- you,” he says, and before Bertholdt can protest he promptly grabs the inside of his elbow and drags him towards the girls like he’s nothing more than a limp doll.

Unfortunately for Reiner, Bertholdt acts like Bertholdt and stays awkwardly quiet while Reiner takes the lead, making bad jokes that drag laughs out of his audience like always. It’s not that the girls aren’t cute. They are, especially the redhead with freckles that keeps smiling shyly at Bertholdt, her green dress slipping off her shoulders, too tight across the chest.

The desire that follows is inevitable, but it’s enough for Bertholdt to pull away. He looks up and spots a familiar short, blonde head, giving him the perfect excuse. “I think I just saw Annie,” he says to Reiner. “I’ll go say hi.” Bertholdt almost never talks to Annie when he doesn’t have to, but that’s not important.

“Oh,” Reiner says, stopping in whatever he was saying, some long-winded story that Bertholdt had long tuned out. He doesn’t miss the look of disappointment that passes over the redhead’s face, but he focuses on Reiner, whose face is blank before he smiles. “Sure. Tell her I said hi too.”

The momentary hesitation isn’t enough to mean something. Sometimes Bertholdt wonders if he’s imagining things, and he shakes his head to himself after he steps away.

The numerous stands lining the stone path of the town’s streets remind him of the ones in Liberio, and Bertholdt stops at a vendor selling drinks along the way to Annie.

His gaze quickly passes over the alcohol. He could get it if he really wanted it (perks of being a soldier, Reiner had told him once, beaming) but it’s reckless and stupid. Something Reiner would do. Not him. “Apple cider, please,” he tells the man running the vendor.

The brown glass bottle is transparent, the liquid within fizzing. Bertholdt takes a quick gulp of it as he heads towards Annie, who’s already staring at him with her cold gaze. His version of liquid courage.

“Reiner isn’t with you,” Annie says.

“No. Talking to some girls.” Annie raises an eyebrow, but Bertholdt speaks before she can say anything. “Youlooknice,” he mutters, barely audible.

Annie’s lip curls in distaste, as she tugs at the long skirt of the brown dress. It’s off the shoulder, sleeves beginning below the soft and slender curves. There’s an elaborate white stitching from the v-neck of the collar to her waist, and when Bertholdt looks up, Annie is looking straight at him, frowning slightly.

Bertholdt coughs, heat rushing into his face. “Um, you look nice.”

Annie sighs, brushing her long bangs behind her ear. “You already said that.”

“I didn’t think you had any dresses.”

It leaves his mouth before Bertholdt realizes whether it’s an appropriate thing to say. But Annie doesn’t take offence, shaking her head and jerking it towards a flower display. Mina stands there with a few other girls from the 104th, dressed up and content, telling by their rosy cheeks. “I don’t. Mina made me wear it.”

Her tone is irritated, but Bertholdt can hear the fondness lying underneath. It’s a fondness he doesn’t think has ever been directed at him or Reiner.

True to the thought, it’s gone when Annie looks back at him. “Walk with me.”

It’s not a question, so Bertholdt goes.

When they pass other cadets from their corps, Bertholdt says hi when they greet the two with a wave while Annie tips her head in acknowledgement.

“They don’t even know what they’re celebrating this festival for,” Annie drawls, after another awkward greeting.

“They don’t really know anything.”

“They think it’s just a day of thanks for what little they have,” Annie says sardonically. “Not the day meant to express their gratefulness for Ymir Fritz, the goddess of the Eldian people. Our most benevolent saviour.” She shakes her head. “They banned the day in Marley. But it doesn’t even really exist anywhere, now.”

Annie abruptly stops in front of a glass display in a store. Bertholdt follows her gaze: cakes, ranging from white to blue with meticulous toppings and carefully placed frosting. They’re rare in Wall Rose, a delicacy that only a very select part of the population can afford to buy. Cakes had never been available to anyone in Liberio.

Annie taps the glossy surface with a trimmed nail, still peering inside while Bertholdt turns away. “We’re running out of time, you know.”

Bertholdt tries not to flinch. “Yes.”

Annie drops her hand, and looks up at him. Her face isn’t any less harder than it usually is, but there’s an honesty there that makes him want to look away. Annie has never been the type to lie, but this is- something else.

“I don’t plan on dying within the Walls, Bertholdt.”

“And neither do Reiner or I,” Bertholdt says, and then he frowns. Feelings for her notwithstanding, he’s not an idiot that can’t see the subtext her words. “What are you trying to say, Annie?” He already knows the answer, and suddenly Bertholdt is filled with a bone-deep exhaustion.

“If it comes down to it,” Annie says. “I’ll do what I have to.”

That could mean so many things. Running and leaving both of them behind. Forcefully wresting control from Reiner- they all know that she can, if she really wants to. Betraying them to Marley to save her own skin. The last is nothing she hasn’t explicitly told Reiner she would do before, back at that tree that had stood in a wide field on its lonesome, Marcel’s death only a short distance behind them with a Titan still feasting.

“I understand,” Bertholdt says.

It feels like Annie’s eyes are seeing straight through him, like he’s nothing more than a looking glass. “You should do the same,” she says. Her eyes turn harsh, the open blue freezing back into merciless ice. “You’re smart. But for Reiner, you become an idiot.”

“Maybe,” Bertholdt says softly, and there’s nothing left to say.

The mission is their one common ground, the only thing they can talk about. It was what brought them together back home, and it’s the only thing holding them together now.

Annie hasn’t changed much since then. Still distant and aloof, almost always by herself and looking at everything and everyone with a disdain she couldn’t quite mask. There are a few exceptions now - Eren, Mina, Armin- but she’s still the same girl from a town he sometimes struggles to remember.

Not for the first time, Bertholdt wonders why he likes her.

“Oi!” Someone shouts, and Bertholdt looks up to see Reiner running towards them, waving with a grin on his face. Once he comes to a stop in front of them, the grin remains, but Bertholdt doesn’t think he’s imagining it fade slightly as Reiner looks from Bertholdt to Annie. “What are you two lovebirds getting up to?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Annie says. She looks disgusted, and Bertholdt wonders if it’s the suggestion that has her making that face, but she always looks disgusted when she’s talking to Reiner.

“What happened to the girls?” Bertholdt asks.

“Oh. Uh, I got bored,” Reiner says.

“That’s surprising, coming from a ladies’ man such as yourself,” Annie sneers. Her words are practically drowning in sarcasm.

“They weren’t that interesting,” Reiner replies tersely.

Annie’s lip curls. “I’ll bet.”

Bertholdt wishes she would tone it down, and almost finds the courage to encourage the two to have a peaceful conversation for once before Annie turns back to the cake display, tuning them out.

“Didn’t know you had a sweet tooth,” Reiner says. “Want me to buy you something?” His smile is completely insincere, and doesn’t quite hide the mean edge in his voice. He isn’t buying her anything sweet.

“Yeah, no thanks,” Annie says, and stalks off.

“I don’t understand why you have to be so antagonistic,” Bertholdt says once Annie turns the street corner and out of sight.

Reiner scoffs. “Oh, come on. You were standing there, you saw her fucking start it.”

“And you always respond in full.”

“Yeah, well.” Reiner looks away. “Since you feel the need to defend her so often, why don’t you try taking it up with her next time instead? If you like her so much.” He spits out the last part, crossing his arms.

Bertholdt feels cold. “I don’t.”

Reiner just looks at him. “Sure,” he says, shaking his head. After a pause, he makes an about-face and starts to steadfastly march in the opposite direction that Annie went.

Bertholdt follows. “Reiner, come on.”

“You don’t have to protect my feelings,” Reiner says without turning. “We hate each other. Whatever. It won’t kill me if you see her that way.”

“That’s not...” He doesn’t know what to say.

Reiner leads them away from the festival, to the town’s borders. He stops in a clearing before a path that twists into a forest that will take any travellers away to the other sprawling villages. It was the same path they came down to get here.

From here, the town’s lights and voices can be distantly seen and heard. It would be pitch-black if it wasn’t for the full moon hanging high in the sky. Reiner sits down on a tree stump, his hands falling limply between his knees. He stares at them, a line marring the space between his brows before he looks up.

“We’re best friends, aren’t we?”

It’s supposed to be a lead-up to something else, Bertholdt can tell, but instead it comes out unintentionally small and confused. So obviously vulnerable. Reiner shrinks in on himself a little, blinking.

A part of Bertholdt aches. “Of course.”

Reiner takes a deep breath. “Right,” he says, visibly pulling himself together. Another moment, and he’s the confident, broad-shouldered cadet that all of their friends except Bertholdt sees.

“So if we’re best friends,” Reiner says. “That means we can tell each other shit. Even stupid crushes. You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Bertholdt lies. “You’ve seen me and Annie talk. We don’t have anything between us.”

“You and Annie having the chemistry of a dead fish doesn’t mean you don’t like her,” Reiner says flatly.

Bertholdt grimaces. “Reiner.”

“Look, I’m not saying you’re going to get married and fly off into the sunset or whatever,” Reiner says. “I mean, you’ll have my blessing if that happens, but that’s not what I’m saying. You like her.”

“She would hate what you’re saying right now.”

Reiner rolls his eyes. “I’m not talking about her feelings, I’m talking about yours. I said it before, I’ll say it again. You don’t have to protect my feelings, Bertholdt.”

Except that he does.

He’s failed Reiner so many times. He couldn’t protect the small little boy he’d picked off the ground, who’d desperately wanted to prove that he was worth caring about. You’re not meant for this, Bertholdt had wanted to tell him. He’d never been able to.

He’d done nothing when Annie had kicked the life out of him, until Reiner was a bloody mess lying limp in the dirt. He hadn’t stepped forward when Reiner said he’d be Marcel, when he never needed to be anyone but himself. He’d said nothing during the nights after when he lay helplessly awake on the threadbare blankets the refugee camps gave them, as Reiner cried, trying to muffle his tiny sobs and failing.

He still says nothing now, when Reiner is falling apart at the cracks, uselessly trying to seal a hole in a raft that’s been sinking for years.

This is the least that he can do.

“I don’t like her, Reiner,” Bertholdt says. “I swear.”

Reiner meets his eyes. He doesn’t believe him, Bertholdt can tell, in the sadness there. But Reiner drops it, breaking eye contact and looking down at his booted feet. “Okay. If you say so.”

Bertholdt walks over to where he sits, and kneels in front of him. Reiner starts to shift back, startled, before Bertholdt grabs his wrist, holding him in place.

“You know I’ll always care about you the most,” Bertholdt says, the firmness in his voice surprising even himself. “More than anyone. More than Annie. You’re the most important person to me. Okay?”

Reiner’s eyes are wide. His skin is hot underneath Bertholdt’s hand. But after a moment he tips his head forward, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “...Okay.”

Bertholdt waits a little longer than he should before letting go of Reiner’s wrist. Reiner rubs it, head still ducked, but Bertholdt can see his cheeks turn pink.

More than Reiner and Annie disliking each other, he wouldn’t tell Reiner because of... because of this.

Reiner stands up suddenly, putting distance between himself and Bertholdt. Bertholdt stays on the ground after he gets up, before standing up as well.

“So.” Reiner tries to laugh the moment off, uneasy. “Why don’t we head back? Try to have fun for real this time. I saw you eyeing that redhead, you know. We’ve both been missing out, and I’ve been looking for a girl to mess around with.”

Bertholdt wonders if Reiner really thinks he’s fooling anyone.

“I don’t really want to,” Bertholdt says.

Reiner rubs the back of his head. “...Well, that’s fine too. We should probably head back anyways.”

Reiner stands in place, looking uncertain. His cropped hair is starting to grow out. His bottom lip is still red from biting it, and his biceps strain against his sleeves as he crosses his arms.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” Bertholdt asks suddenly.

After a second, Reiner sputters. “Are you a dumbass? Of course, I-“ Reiner falters, turning red. He sighs and scratches the back of his head. “No, I haven’t.”

It’s stupid. Reckless. Selfish, and not really fair to Reiner, Bertholdt thinks. But maybe just once... if they did it once, if he just did it for Reiner, it might just make this tension that’s been between them go away.

Bertholdt feels his face turn red. Shit. “We could practice,” he mumbles. “You know, for the real thing. I’ve done it before, so. If you want.”

Reiner looks like a man stuck in the incoming path of a Titan. “That’s...”

“It wouldn’t mean anything,” Bertholdt says. He coughs. “Since you want to fool around, I’d just... be helping you before it really happens.”

“That’s still weird,” Reiner mumbles. He hesitates. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, since you apparently want to kiss me so bad,” Reiner snaps, before going red again and turning away.

Bertholdt steps toward him, and Reiner backs away. When Bertholdt takes another step, Reiner’s back bumps against a tree.

Bertholdt frowns. “You... Are you really okay with this?”

Even Reiner’s neck is red now. “Yes. Damn it, just- just do it already.”

Bertholdt places an uncertain hand beside Reiner’s head. He’s looming over Reiner, and they’re both uncomfortable, if Reiner’s squirming isn’t telling. “Are you really-?”

“Bertholdt,” Reiner hisses, and he sighs.

He cups Reiner’s cheek in his free hand. He’s trembling. Not that Bertholdt is faring any better, his heart pounding a rapid pace. He leans down, pausing beside Reiner’s ear. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers.

Bertholdt turns his head, and presses his lips against Reiner’s.

Reiner’s lips are stiff and unmoving. Bertholdt sucks his upper lip between his own, and feels Reiner shudder. He opens his eyes and pulls back a little, and strokes his thumb over Reiner’s cheek, encouraging him to kiss him back.

Reiner’s breath hitches. His eyes are still closed, but he looks scared, and shame coils inside Bertholdt. He’s still hurting Reiner. Bertholdt pulls away. “I’m-“

He can’t get out the word sorry before Reiner grabs the collar of his shirt and reels him back in. He’s clumsy but pushes his mouth insistently against Bertholdt’s, pressing Bertholdt’s bottom lip between his lips. He hesitates, and bites it gently.

Bertholdt fights the groan struggling up his throat, and the sudden unsteadiness of his legs, gripping the tree harder with his hand for balance. Reiner’s hands, which have been stiff at his sides, move up and stop at Bertholdt’s shoulders, one sliding into the back of his hair, the other stopping at the side of his neck.

“Okay?” Reiner asks softly. Bertholdt should be the one asking that.

In response, he kisses Reiner open-mouthed. Reiner makes a surprised sound, and then gasps when Bertholdt’s tongue slides into his mouth. His hands find the bottom of Reiner’s shirt, sliding up to find the skin underneath.

Reiner’s arm slides around his neck, his hand tugging at Bertholdt’s hair. Bertholdt can’t hold back the groan this time, and pulls away from Reiner’s lips to mouth at the spot underneath his jaw. His hand finds the dip in Reiner’s lower back and presses him tight against him.

Reiner whimpers, both of his arms around Bertholdt’s neck and clinging to him now. Bertholdt nips at Reiner’s jaw, and Reiner exhales shakily. Just as Bertholdt’s hand starts to slide even lower, Reiner grabs his shoulders and pushes him away.

“I think that’s enough practice,” Reiner says. He’s breathing hard, his face bright pink as he looks up at Bertholdt.

Bertholdt blinks, and steps away. “Okay.”

Reiner nods, wrapping his arms around himself. “Okay.”

All Bertholdt can think about is how empty his arms feel now without Reiner in them. He tries to imagine Annie there instead, and it doesn’t fit.

Reiner scratches the spot on his neck that Bertholdt had just been kissing. “I think I’m ready. If I need to, um, kiss someone else.”

The daze falls away instantly at that. “Right,” Bertholdt says hoarsely, and clears his throat. “I mean, that’s good.”

“Yup,” Reiner says, and they look at each other uncertainly.

Bertholdt was wrong. The tension is still there.

“Let’s head back,” Reiner says, and Bertholdt nods, falling into step behind him, as always.

**Author's Note:**

> they’re both dumbasses in denial


End file.
